


gentle love

by Daenarii



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff, M/M, no really. it's just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 05:25:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7562125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daenarii/pseuds/Daenarii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A quiet moment in the very early morning between Dorian and his amatus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	gentle love

Dorian inhales deeply, opening his eyes. Sometimes, he really hated demons—especially the tricks they tried to pull in the Fade. There he’d been, peacefully enjoying a dream about his homeland, and poof, a demon donning the face of his father had appeared.

He knows he doesn’t have to worry about that for now, though. There are no arms around him, but he can still feel Soros’ warmth at his back. Dorian carefully rolls over so that he can face the still-sleeping Soros, who is facing him in turn.

Soros is curled in on himself, his face lax in sleep. When awake, he usually has a furrow between his brows—of concentration or frustration, generally—but he seems at peace now. His mouth is open slightly and he’s breathing softly; it’s as if all his problems have simply melted away.

Dorian reaches out a hand to take one of Soros’. He doesn’t stir, and Dorian feels a smile play at his lips as he looks down to inspect their intertwined fingers.

Soros’ fingers are thin and lithe, though his palms and fingerpads are calloused. Dorian likes the texture of them, how they slide against his smooth palms, and he almost wishes that Soros liked to hold hands more often.

Dorian glances up at Soros’ face, and sees that his lips are closed, the furrow between his brow is back, and his eyes are open. Soros’ gaze flits up from their intertwined hands to Dorian’s eyes, and he sleepily grins.

“You’re up early,” he remarks softly, lazily blinking his golden eyes. They’re shining softly in the dark, like they have a fire within them, and Dorian is almost transfixed.

“As are you, _amatus_ ,” Dorian responds in kind. He brings up one of Soros’ hands to kiss the knuckle, the sleep his brain is swimming in making him feel affectionate.

Soros doesn’t respond, instead watching Dorian kiss his hand. The crease between his brows is almost clearly smoothed over, but as soon as Dorian notices this, it reappears. So close.

“What does that mean?” Soros asks in a murmur as he switches his gaze from their joined hands to Dorian’s eyes once again.

“What does what mean?” Dorian asks, blinking lazily. “ _Amatus_?”

Soros nods. Dorian notes with only a touch of pride that the furrow is almost gone again.

“It’s Tevene,” Dorian explains, dropping his gaze back down to their conjoined hands. They haven’t yet said _I love you_ —perhaps they never will? Dorian doesn’t expect Soros is the type to just announce it one day—so he is a touch quieter as he adds, “It means ‘beloved.’”

Soros is silent for a moment. And another moment. And yet one more. Dorian can’t handle the silence, so he glances up at Soros’ face to gauge his reaction.

It might be the lighting, but Dorian could swear that Soros’ eartips are a shade darker than they were before.

“...I see,” Soros finally releases, though it sounds strained, like he’d been fighting off a lot of other things to say. “I...wasn’t expecting that,” he then admits as he ducks his head a little.

“If it makes you uncomfortable—” Dorian begins, his stomach giving a little lurch— _Was that too soon?_ —before Soros interrupts him.

“No!” Soros protests, a little more loudly, as he looks back up at Dorian. “It’s...nice,” he says, his voice softening as he gives Dorian a small smile. “I just feel like I should be calling you something similar now.”

“I won’t force you,” Dorian responds, scooting closer to Soros, so that their noses are almost brushing. “Although, I won’t turn down being called ‘the Handsome and Radiant Dorian’ either,” he muses, his voice growing quieter.

Soros gives an amused smirk and a huff of air that’s probably a laugh. “I was thinking more along the lines of _ma vhenan_ ,” he says, his voice as quiet as Dorian’s was. At Dorian’s confused look, he explains, “It means ‘my heart.’”

Dorian feels a half-smirk snake its way across his face. “How positively romantic,” he says, trying to ignore the small flutter in his chest. He continues, the smirk having melted away, “I won’t force you to call me anything that isn’t natural for you, Soros.”

“I know,” Soros replies, and Dorian can tell that he wants to say something else by the way his voice catches. Soros averts his eyes, and Dorian gives him a moment to pull himself together. It’s still a struggle to get him to admit his feelings, but if Dorian is patient, it can happen.

“You just mean a lot to me,” Soros finally continues, his eyes still not meeting Dorian’s. “I don’t say anything, but you do. And with all the danger we’re in, every day, I feel like I _should_ be saying something.”

“ _Danger_?” Dorian asks. “Only a few thousand red templars and an ancient Tevinter magister; what could possibly be dangerous about that?”

“I’m serious, Dorian,” Soros says, looking back at Dorian. His jaw is set stubbornly as he says, “We’re near the end now, and I don’t want to leave anything unsaid.”

“You’re talking as if you’re going to die,” Dorian responds, a worried frown pulling the corners of his lips down. “Please don’t tell me you’re planning on becoming a martyr.”

“I’m not, but….” Soros sighs, glancing away for a moment before returning his gaze to Dorian again. “We can’t know what will happen, Dorian. I’d like to tell you while I still have the chance,” he says, his hand suddenly gripping Dorian’s more tightly, “that...I love you.”

Dorian feels everything around him go still for a moment. The only things he can feel are his pounding heart, Soros’ grip around his hand, and his stomach leaping in excitement.

_He said it_ is the only thing bouncing around in Dorian’s mind. Never in a million years had he expected Soros to say the L-word first, if at all; he always seemed too stoic for anything that romantic. Memories whirl around in Dorian’s mind—of the first time he’d liked a man who saw him as nothing more than something to be used, of the crushing weight he’d felt when he’d realized he’d probably never hear the word _love_ (much less an _I love you_ ). How wrong he’d been.

Dorian realizes that he’s been staring at Soros for a long time now, his mouth slightly gaping in what was probably awe. Soros’ eyes are searching his, and the furrow between his brows is back. It strikes Dorian as a rather worried expression.

Dorian swallows his awed expression and replaces it with a smirk. “Now, that’s nice to hear,” he murmurs, his smirk evolving into a sincere smile. “Do I _really_ have to say it back?” he asks.

“I would appreciate it,” Soros responds, though his worried expression has smoothed over for the most part.

Dorian scoots his head closer to Soros’ before he responds. Staring deeply into Soros’ eyes, he says, “I love you, _amatus_.”

Dorian would’ve left it there, but Soros smiles at him then, a rare smile that makes Dorian want to write poetry likening it to the sun. The sky outside begins to lighten to a soft shade of lilac, heralding the sunrise, and Dorian feels a thousand pounds lighter for some reason.

Overcome with joy and feeling like he’ll explode if he doesn’t do something about it, Dorian leans his head further, closing his eyes as he captures Soros’ lips in a kiss. There’s no hesitation before Dorian feels a hand on the back of his head, fingers curling in his hair as Soros leans further into the kiss.

Dorian feels a smile tug at his mouth. Years ago, he would’ve never thought he’d be here, in the arms of the man he loved, and loved in return. Now, he isn’t festering inside like poison; instead, joy is squeezing his heart. He suspects it will continue to do so for a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> ,, this is the first thing i've posted on ao3 :^) if u have any pointers for like,, formatting nd stuff please send them my way lmao. and also constructive criticism is v much appreciated !!


End file.
